Page 14 of Breaking Away

“Do it for me. I’m not asking you to forgive him, but pick up your phone, at least.”

“But—”

“I have to go. Don’t let me down. I know you’ll do the right thing.”

He hangs up. I’m left staring at my mom, open-mouthed.

The butter knife drops back on the plate as I practice slow, deep breaths.

“I can’t believe it,” I mumble.

Click. Clack.Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

My mom’s aggressively knitting again, but with the saddest, most sympathetic expression on her face. “I’m sorry. I know this is really hard, but don’t forget,” she says. “We’re the lucky ones, Kavleen. Who else gets to sit at a restaurant of their choosing with all the free time in the world? Sure, your father is so busy, but I get this.” She holds up her knitting needles. “My hobbies. Isn’t that what you want? Time and space for your photography? I know Tyler isn’t perfect, but he’s been supportive, right? Nowhe needs guidance to get back on the right path. Men make stupid mistakes all the time.”

My photography…

A sudden thought hits me.

I don’t know where my camera is.

That’s a lie. I do.

I left it behind in Dmitri Lokhov’s hotel suite when I ran out on him. This whole time I’ve been heartbroken, angry, weeping, and so distracted that I didn’t realize he’s got my backpack.

If he hasn’t already thrown it away…

Fuck.

I need to get my camera back!

7

DMITRI

Coach Forrester is punishingme for the fight I started last time we played Seattle. That’s why I’m on the bench. He’s trying to prove that Vancouver can win without me.

Except, it’s not working.

We aren’t winning.

But we aren’t losing either.

The game is tied in regulation, and now it’s three-on-three, sudden-death overtime. I should be on the ice. My legs twitch and my teeth grind as I watch my team get checked against the boards by the Blades.

This is the first game I’ve not played in… too long to remember. I hate it so much my stick bends under my hands. It’s been cutthroat skating this entire game, but the other team’s overpowering us now. We need a defenseman who can strip them of the puck. The team needs me.

Forrester doesn’t look my way.

Three minutes later, it’s too late because Seattle gets the puck past our goalie.

They win. Game over.

We’re in Vancouver so the fan disappointment is crushing. The crowd shuffles out loudly.

At least she wasn’t in the stands watching.

Back in the dressing room, Coach tells us to rest. We’ll be spending all day tomorrow reviewing game footage and doing drills.

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